Arcana XXII
by em.matheson
Summary: When Damon and Alaric accidentally raise a new threat beyond the ability of the Mystic Falls gang to handle, Caroline must call in a special favor. But all favors come with a price, and she quickly realizes just how far in they are over their heads.
1. Savor Kindness

Oh, it's been a while. Unfortunately, after I last posted the 3rd chapter in November I was dealt some life altering news and struggled to find sufficient inspiration following that. But, as humans we're adaptable and life moves right along. So let's move along. Few updates here and there have been made to the previous three chapters, not super necessary so read at your own discretion. We will see an end to this. Eventually.

* * *

 **"Savor kindness. Cruelty is always possible later."**

 **Jenny Holzer**

* * *

 **1487**

The World is spinning. She can't exactly comprehend why the World is spinning, but the World spins nonetheless. Death watches on in confusion, already lost in the situation she finds herself in. Giving the Emperor a worried sideways glance, Death finds that his lip it too curled in displeasure while the World spins.

"What fresh hell are you doing now?" he asks, but the World only leans her head back to inform him that it's all part of the ceremony.

"That's right, it's all part of the ceremony," Death hisses when the World pulls out a large blade and gestures for their wrists. The Emperor could kill her, might actually before the day was over, but Death would welcome it at this rate. She'd dealt with full blown crazy for years now, but this was taking it to a new level.

She hisses when the Emperor's bloodied wrist presses against hers, the magic binding them together. It twists a searing path up her arm, winding itself around her heart. His face remains impassive, but she knows he feels it too. She makes sure to give him an especially angry glare.

"One to bind them and one to rule them," the World mutters, painting her own blood on Death, "one to bring balance and one to bring truth." Death isn't sure how much blood paints her skin now, only that it belongs to herself and 20 other people.

"Is all of this necessary?" The Emperor asks, but the World only hushes him and smears more blood from shoulder to shoulder. She moves around him, smearing Death's blood down his back, humming a discordant melody as she went.

"You wanted loyalty," she accuses, "you wanted an army that would be unmatched."

"Yes, well, this really isn't how I expected it to go," he whines.

"I'll second that assessment," Death agrees, watching while the World binds their wrists with a frown. The white strip of fabric is quickly dyed red. This whole process is deeply unsettling and she's ready for it to be over.

"Two birds, one stone," the World shrugs. "The Spirits demanded a new Arcana, you want power and loyalty. It was simply an intersection of interests."

Death levies a weary stare at the Emperor. He was the one that got them into this after all. She'd suggested a complex web of compulsion, but he'd heard of a powerful witch in Galta that he just had to have. Of course, the witch had come with the price of blood magic and an eternal bond in return for power.

If there were two things the Emperor couldn't resist it was loyalty and power. As his spymaster, Death had no voice with which to express her dissenting opinion. Or well, she did, but was promptly ignored if he had even listened at all. She didn't trust blood magic, but here she was. Bleeding into the Emperor's open wound.

Never mind that blood magic was strictly forbidden, something that everyone in the room was all aware of. Even the witches that dabbled in the darkest of magics didn't touch the blood magic. It was so often unreliable and had a particularly terrifying way of twisting your words. Oh yes, Death thought, she'd be hard-pressed to destroy all record of it, but it'd be well worth the cost in the end.

"I'm sorry, but I fail to see where my interests intersect with either of yours," the Tower points out, silent up until now.

"Sorry, mate," the Emperor grins, "you were just a victim of coincidence." Death rolls her eyes at the Emperor, if the Tower was a victim of coincidence, then what they hell was she? A victim of loyalty? If this process wasn't binding her to the Emperor entirely, she had half a mind to go walk into a stake and end it all. Served him right for all the bullshit he'd subjected her to over the past week.

"Balance," the World argues, "you were needed for balance. The Spirits chose you for this task." Death can feel Justice's blood dripping down her back, mingling with her own and making the slow trail down her spine. She can feel Justice's eyes following that trail where her back faces him.

"Bit of a shit task, if you ask me," the Tower grumbles, but the World ignores him and ties his bleeding wrist to Death's.

"If it makes you feel any better, less than half of us actually agreed to this," Death tells him. She knows the Hierophant was going to be pissed when he woke up, and the Magician would be unhappy initially to hear it had been done without his consent. The World continues humming her odd song, binding them all in their own blood.

"It doesn't," the Tower tells her glumly. She immediately marks him as a bit of a sad sack. Exactly who she wanted to be tied to for the rest of eternity, how excellent for her. The Emperor's glare could melt ice, perhaps too realizing exactly what he'd done.

"Wait, you said 22, correct? There are only 21 of us here," Death pauses to look around the room. And there are, only 21 people scatter the dark room, covered in blood and in various states of undress. You'd think it have been a violent orgy with the way it looked, but unfortunately, no such pleasure had occurred.

"The High Priestess is with us in spirit," the World explains, bringing on a fresh new wave of complaints from the other three. It was to be a long night indeed.

* * *

 **2015**

Caroline flips the grimoire closed and sets her head on it with a heavy thunk. They'd found nothing so far, not even with Bonnie's new set of super ancient grimoires, and she was totally going to kill Damon and Alaric. If the Franken-monster didn't kill them first.

They should have seen it coming, honestly. It had been a fairly quiet year once the whole Jo dying and Elena settling into a coma thing had cleared up a little. It still sucked, and she felt really bad for poor Alaric, but it was also really nice not to have something or someone trying to kill them. Caroline had been determined to make the most of their creepy supernatural mastermind free lives for a while, but then all of _that_ happened.

"Wait a second," Bonnie finally speaks up and Caroline lifts her head. "Have you heard anything about the Arcana Twenty Two? Or, Arcana X-X-I-I, it's in roman numerals."

"Doesn't ring any immediate bells," she answers, "why, what's it say?"

"It's a reference to the tarot, but this passage is referring to it like it's a group or something. They formed in 1487 and are apparently the supernatural justice league or something, committed to keeping the balance," Bonnie's eyes skim the couple short paragraphs.

"Ok, the Justice League is probably our best lead at this point. Did you say 1487?" Bonnie nods. Groaning, Caroline wonders how the hell they're going to track down a group of people from 1487.

"I really hate to do this Care, but I think we're at option Z at this point. Klaus was the only one alive then and since you two are so close..." Bonnie trails off and Caroline lets her head thunk back onto the grimoire.

"Oh my god, you're never going to let that go," she whines, "and anyway, do you think Klaus would have anything to do with a supernatural justice league? I mean, a. he's a psycho killer and b. I'm pretty sure he's the least committed to the balance."

At the end of the day though, Klaus wasn't going to resurrect an ancient immortal witch even though the Other Side had been completely destroyed, because duh, the guy wasn't going to come back right in the head. Like seriously, this stuff isn't rocket science. And she really shouldn't have to give Klaus points for not doing something completely stupid like that, but here she was, adding another tick to the pro column.

"Look, I think these guys are going to be our answer, whatever the hell they are. We just need to find them," Bonnie pushes the grimoire toward Caroline, who gives the paragraph a quick once over. It really didn't have any more information than the name and the year.

"I'm going to guess you can't do a tracking spell?" Caroline winces, giving Bonnie a hopeful look, but the girl just shakes her head.

"You gotta call him, Care. I'm the last person who would tell you that, so you know you have to. I'll let you talk it out in private while I try Enzo again," Bonnie stands and stacks the books up before heading to her room. After the death of her mom and the weirdness with Bonnie's family, the two girls had moved into the boarding house. Not exactly ideal, especially after that super awkward kiss with Stefan a few months back, but anything was better than her own house.

Damon was mostly in a drunken stupor somewhere else, Stefan had taken to lurking god knows where, and Alaric was constantly buried in a book. One night over another dinner at the Grill, Bonnie had made a comment about their lives being better when Klaus was tormenting them and the really scary part was that she wasn't wrong.

Caroline relents after groaning toward the ceiling and letting out a few courage building sighs, picking up her phone and finding _**DO NOT CALL**_ in her contacts.

"Caroline?" He didn't even make it to the second ring, she wasn't sure to be worried or impressed. "Is everything alright? You're not hurt are you?" Nope, she's just going to ignore that warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, that's exactly what she's going to do.

"Hey, Klaus," oh my god, did she always sound so awkward? Giving herself a mental slap, she continues, "I'm fine, I promise. Well, fine-ish, it's a bit of a mess here, I'm not going to lie," her laugh sounds stilted to even her own ears.

"I suspect this isn't a social call from your tone," his tone had cooled considerably, "but how can I be of assistance?" Great, now she felt like shit. Klaus was totally not going to guilt her about not calling him after the whole incident in the woods. And he was supposed to be some great lothario, honestly.

"You got me," she admits with a sigh, "Damon and Alaric have done something incredibly stupid and in an effort to fix it, Bonnie wanted me to ask you about something she read in a grimoire."

"Are you ever going to learn that it isn't your responsibility to clean up their messes, Caroline?" He tuts quietly.

"One day, hopefully. Unfortunately this mess happens to be a bit bigger than my not taking responsibility."

"If they cause you any harm and I get word of it, and you know I will, sweetheart, the consequences will be dire," he tells her assuredly. Nope, Caroline thinks, ignore the butterflies, they don't exist. "So what did your witch friend read that you think I can help with?"

"It was something called the Arcane XXII? Or Arcana, the Arcana XXII," Caroline reads off her notes. She really would have taken Latin in school if she'd known how much of it she was going to have to read. There's no noise on the other end suddenly, and she's worried the call dropped. The boarding house had the absolute worst reception. "Hello? Klaus?"

"Where did you hear that name?" His voice cuts through the phone and she almost drops it out of surprise. The sudden shift in tone was alarming and she wasn't sure she'd ever heard him sound so terrifying before. "Caroline, I need you to answer me, where did you hear that fucking name?"

"Geeze, Klaus, no need to curse. It was in one of the grimoires Bonnie has," her voice comes out shakier than she intends and she hears more cursing from the other end.

"I told you I wouldn't come back the last time I left, I promised. I need you to give me permission to come back to that god forsaken town, Caroline, and I need it now."

"Klaus, you're scaring me," she responds hesitantly.

"You should be scared, Caroline Forbes, you and your little gang should be very afraid if you've awakened something that requires Arcana XXII. I need your permission, now," his voice leaves no room for argument and Caroline squeaks a tiny quiet ok.

"I will be there as soon as I can, Caroline, I promise. I just...for the love of all that's good Caroline, stay safe. I swear if anything…" the line cuts off midway through his sentence and she doesn't have to wonder what he was going to say next.

"Bonnie?" Caroline calls out, waiting until she heard her friend pad into the dining room. Bonnie could hear part of the conversation, but she's alarmed when Caroline is still standing shell shocked with her phone gripped fiercely in her hand. "Bonnie, we fucked up," Caroline's voice is almost hollow. "You should have heard him, I don't…"

"Hey, hey," she reaches her arms around her friend, "it's alright, we can fix it. Klaus will help us fix it." Caroline can hear Bonnie's words, but they don't compare to the raw fear infused in Klaus' tone. He'd been angry before, and hurt. She was sure she'd even seen him a little freaked out, but this was a whole other level. Caroline finally felt like she was grasping the gravity of the situation.


	2. People Wake Up

**"When something terrible happens people wake up."**

 **Jenny Holzer**

* * *

Despite Caroline telling Bonnie that they wouldn't find anything else on Arcana XXII, she still continued to pour through the books they'd already gone through. Given Klaus' reaction, they were lucky the name was even in one of the books. Caroline had taken to doodling the roman numerals in the margins of her notepad, it wasn't particularly helpful, but she was still processing the fact the Klaus was going to be there imminently.

"Has Klaus ever mentioned the name, Michele?" Bonnie's voice sounds from behind a book.

"Ok, it's not like I committed to memory literally everything he said," Bonnie's disbelieving gaze peers over the book suddenly and Caroline rolls her eyes at her. "Oh, whatever. Judge me all you want, but you know if a guy ever said those things to you, you'd keep a mental bank."

"Whatever you need to help yourself sleep at night, Care. So no Michele?"

"Nope, why?"

"It's scrawled out in the margin of a slip of paper crammed in here. Michele to Forli with 1499 in parentheses and then is signed N. M." Bonnie leaves the paper where it is but slides the book over to Caroline.

"I mean, I'm not an expert in Klaus' handwriting, but those are his initials. It looks like it was being used as a bookmark though," Caroline doesn't touch the page, but slides it back, "maybe the page means something?"

"No," Bonnie wrinkles her nose, "it just says a bunch of stuff about justice and death or whatever."

"Find anything yet?" Stefan appeared over her shoulder, and Bonnie shoots her a panicked glance. They hadn't informed anyone that Klaus would be arriving shortly, and also possibly on the warpath. Damon was already on thin enough ice with Klaus and Alaric wasn't enough of a blip on his radar for Klaus to care about his life.

"Yeah, actually," Caroline returns Bonnie's stare before turning to Stefan, "Bonnie found a reference to a super old group that can help us. Like a justice league or something." _Please leave it alone, Stefan._

"Great," Stefan claps his hand together, moving toward the table, "where do we find them?"

"I've actually got…" Caroline hesitates for a second. If she mentions Klaus' name, things between her and Stefan will just get that much weirder and there's only so much she can rock the boat in their close living quarters.

"Klaus. He's finding them for us," Bonnie interrupts. Caroline sends her a thankful glance. Maybe if Stefan heard the news from her he'd actually realize how desperate they were to find an answer.

"Are you serious?" his brows furrow while he waits for an answer. "Bonnie," he takes a breath and leans over the table, "are you being serious? The two of you invited the Mikaelsons back into Mystic Falls without talking to anyone first?"

"Because Damon and Alaric were being considerate when they performed an ancient ritual to bring back the guy who locked you in a safe for 6 months without asking," Caroline snaps. Oh no, Stefan didn't get to accuse Bonnie of anything, not when he was constantly making excuses for Damon while everyone else dealt with the trail of disaster behind them.

"Look, I'm not excusing what they did, but love makes you do desperate things."

"You totally are excusing it, Stefan!" Caroline pushes her chair back and stands. "People die, they die every day and their loved ones mourn them and move on. I get that I'm not the most shining example of healthy mourning, but I'm not raising the dead, cheating on anyone with a freaking ghost, or oh my god, contemplating a magical organ swap!"

"I can see I've walked in at the right moment," Caroline whirls, of course she was the only one who didn't apparently notice Klaus come in while she ranted, "and I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Caroline here, mate. Your lot isn't exactly the pinnacle for healthy relationships." Caroline barely refrains from laughing out loud. That was rich, coming from Mr. I-Killed-My-Parents-And-Kept-My-Siblings-In-A-Box.

"Klaus," she smiles back at him, quickly burying her desire to laugh at his hypocrisy. They needed him on their side and she wasn't about to screw that up. He looks a little worse for wear, but given he managed to get to Mystic Falls from god knows where in just over three hours, she'll excuse it this time.

"Hello, Caroline," she's glad when he returns her smile after he shouted at her on the phone earlier, she'd never admit it, but it eases the weight off her shoulders a little. "Bonnie, Stefan."

"Klaus." Somehow Stefan's greeting sounded a lot less friendly than Klaus' which was an accomplishment. Bonnie waves from the chair, which Caroline realizes, is about as nice as she's ever been to him.

"I won't be imposing on your kindness too long," Caroline sneaks a glance toward Bonnie when the word _kindness_ drips from his lips like poisoned honey. Bonnie rolls her eyes at the two men, shaking her head at their pretentiousness. "I've just come to collect Caroline." He turns to address her, "I'd sooner walk into hell than trust your friends so I'll be setting up at my former residence."

"Super," she bites, walking over to the coat rack to grab a jacket and her purse before whirling on the two men, "could you two be any less helpful? Honestly," shaking her head, she directs a frown toward the only other sane person in the room, "Bonnie, I'll text you."

Thankfully, Klaus follows her out the front door without any more snarky comments, letting it latch behind him and the ensuing battle of wills that was about to happen. If this was going to be as bad as they all knew it was, they'd need to actually stop bickering for 30 seconds straight. Hopefully Klaus' knowledge of whatever the hell this group was could actually get them out of the hole they'd managed to dig themselves into.

She doesn't have time to think about anything else, like how he'd opened the car door for her, or that they were going to his big, secluded, and most importantly empty house. No, she'd much rather think about the end of the world than the trouble they could get into where they wouldn't be heard.

"I need to know exactly what you all have done, because if you actually require the services of Arcana XXII," Klaus pauses and waits for her to buckle her seatbelt, "we're going to need a little history lesson." Ugh, and she was this close to wandering into his bedroom. Leave it to Klaus to ruin the mood.

"So after you...left, when Katherine died I mean," she doesn't miss the way the corners of his lips twitch, "we found out she was wrapped up in all sorts of Traveller magic, which still actually doesn't make a lot of sense to me, but whatever. Anyway, the Travellers wound up coming to Mystic Falls and basically screwed everything up. There were a few good ones, but there was also a lot of crazy."

"Yes, they're not known in the witching world as being the most stable lot," Klaus agrees, speeding through the streets. Caroline shoots him a glare for interrupting her but continues.

"So Alaric starts dating one of them, Jo, and she gets pregnant but then her brother like stabbed her in the stomach during their wedding, and then her brother, Jo's I mean, manages to tie Bonnie's life to Elena's so basically she's in a coma until Bonnie dies." To his credit, Klaus appeared to be understanding her jumbled explanation. It was hard trying to sort through all of that in her head, but she had the feeling that giving him an off-handed, you just had to be there, wouldn't end well.

"The fun never ends here, does it?" Cringing, Caroline notes how weary he sounds. She wondered what he'd been up to since he left, if it had been a welcome reprieve from the drama or just another game to play.

"Let's just say, we've really come to appreciate you as a villain," she jokes, trying to lighten the mood, "so then, what I didn't know because I don't make an effort to hang out with my high school history teacher, is that Alaric went totally crazy and was keeping Jo's body preserved. But I mean like, full on crazy. He kept trying to get Bonnie to do a uterus swap or whatever," words were unable to describe the look that Klaus gave her right then, "right? I know. Super gross."

"Is that even physically possible?" He asks, but she doesn't even bother with that one, giving him a look that hopefully conveyed her feelings on the matter. She knew she was walking a dangerous line going down that road with his murder twitchy hands and all, but he needed to know the full scope of crazy that had happened.

"So flash forward a few weeks and he's managed to get Damon to join him on a trip to crazy town. I'm not really sure how they did it, or anything considering the Other Side was destroyed like last year, but they stupidly decided to...ok, hold up, I need you to promise me you won't get mad because I had nothing to do with this," she turns to face him.

"I'd argue that you should have killed those two years ago," he answers as smoothly as he pulls into the wide drive. Caroline rolls her eyes.

"Klaus," she frowns, cocking her head.

"Fine," he relents, "I won't get too mad."

"Damon and Alaric somehow used blood magic to bring Silas back to life so he could bring back Jo and break Elena's curse," she spits out quickly, closing her eyes and biting her lip. Klaus is silent, he's silent long enough that she hazards opening one eye.

"I see. It's not really Silas though, is it, Caroline?" His voice is deadly quiet and he stares ahead at the front door, not bothering to move. _Shit_.

"No," she admits. Klaus was totally mad, "he doesn't look...right. And if it's possible, he seems more unhinged." The lopsided creature was...well, he looked a bit what she had always imagined Frankenstein's monster had looked like. One arm was too long, an eye drooped closer to his nose while the other sat higher up on his forehead. He stood seven feet tall now, body crippled and twisted in an awkward stoop.

"Well, it looks like you'll be needing Arcana XXII after all. Come along," Klaus sighs, finally sliding out of the car. Caroline hurries after him, only pausing when he unlocks the front door.

"So what's the deal with Arcana XXII? Why all the secrecy?" Her voice sounds too loud in the open foyer, too loud to be discussing something so secret. He yanks the sheet off the table in the entryway and pushes open the double doors on each side of the room.

"It's an ancient blood order dedicated to keeping the balance and it's a secret because we don't exactly want them massacred, do we? Not with your lot wreaking the type of havoc you manage to dredge up from the pits of hell," he holds up a finger, indicating that she should wait there, before speeding away. Caroline lets out a huff, she can hear him slamming doors open and racing all over his giant house. She isn't sure what he's looking for, but apparently he doesn't find it when he reappears at the top of the stairs empty handed.

"Right, so ancient blood order or whatever. What do they do?"

"I'm going to assume you don't know your tarot?" Caroline confirms his assumption with a shake of her head, "right then. There are 22 major arcana, the main cards," he's in front of her in a split second, pulling a deck of cards out of his back pocket. He cuts the deck with a single hand, offering her the top card.

"Temperance," she reads, picking the card from his fingers and glancing it over. She's seen tarot cards before, the were always brightly colored and new looking, but Klaus' tarot look much older. Klaus flips the other 21 cards over, so they face up on the table. "I don't get it," she trails off, setting the card back down on the table to admire the others. Each figure is depicted as a black marble sculpture, like a textbook image of the statue David, with gold lines cutting through ancient black stone.

"Many of the old witch lines were eradicated in 1484. Witch trials," Klaus shrugs, "they had a rat on the inside and were able to wipe out nearly the entire council. This created an imbalance that threatened our delicate perch, and you know how peculiar those witches are about their balance," she doesn't laugh at his glib humor so he continues.

"I'd heard a rumor about a witch in Galta, near modern day Istanbul, offering a supernatural army and power to those that wished it. It was only known as Arcana XXII within a very small circle originally. To the rest of the world," he picks Temperance back up and studies it, "it wasn't called anything, not to those who were ignorant of its existence. But people need a name to feel fear. Just as the name Mikaelson strikes fear in those wise enough to recognize its weight, Arcana XXII brings back memories to those old enough to remember its power."

"I should have known you'd been involved," she scoffs. Power and loyalty, she knew Klaus couldn't resist either of those words, even if it meant making a blood pact.

"And a good thing too," he hisses back at her, "your friends have been dabbling in blood magic which was wiped from all history for a very good reason. The only way I can even imagine a way to contain this disaster is through more blood magic which carries a price I doubt you're willing to pay." Not to mention the sheer number of favors he'd have to call in from people he was happy to never hear from again.

"What's the price?" Caroline asks cautiously. Klaus scoffs, this was the same girl that killed 12 witches to resurrect Silas in the first place, just to save her friend. It's a wonder they hadn't resurrected the world's most powerful zombie any sooner.

"Well I'm not exactly a blood witch, now am I?" He snaps.

"Look, I get it ok? We've created a giant mess and I really appreciate you coming to help us clean it up, I really do, but…"

"No, Caroline, you don't get it," Klaus laughs, "your lot has basically brought on the apocalypse. This is…" he brings a hand to his temple, not even sure how to help her grasp the gravity of the situation, "you've created a creature that has no goals, has no grasp on reality, and no tiny hold on sanity. This...this thing only wants to create as much destruction as it possibly can, and because you used one of the most powerful immortal beings as a vehicle, well," he flips his hands out, having worked himself into a pissy mood, "he's not exactly going to be easy to kill."

He wasn't sure she ever would be able to understand what those two fools had done, and she knows the same thing. Given Klaus' mood, Caroline had a decent understanding that they all wouldn't make it out of this, a fact she wasn't quite yet ready to admit to herself. But whatever Klaus was describing? She could no more fathom that than the endlessness of space.

"Do you know a blood witch? Or at least how we start to fix this?" Klaus doesn't answer her questions but slides four of the cards toward her. Death, the World, the Tower, and the Emperor.

"We'll start by finding these three," he tells her, pulling out his phone.

"There are four cards though," she eyes him, already knowing what he was going to say next.

"You've already found the Emperor."


	3. Responsible

**"People are responsible for what they do unless they are insane."**

 **Jenny Holzer**

* * *

Sinking on the bed, Caroline watches the last of the day fade across the wall. She wasn't good at people being mad at her, for some reason it bothered her on a deeper level no matter how much she liked whoever it was. Sure, she and Klaus got on great sometimes, fighting like cats and dogs at others, but he was so rarely actually mad at her.

Honestly, if the pit in her stomach didn't ease soon she was going to flip out.

He'd waved her off the afternoon before, claiming that he needed to make some calls and she should pick a bedroom. She'd huffed, tempted to pitch a fit at that because, hello, he didn't get to waltz in here and uproot her tenuous living situation. But then he'd had to go and drawl out a play by play of her explaining the whole situation to Stefan, an accurate enough prediction that she'd just decided that the second room on the left was perfect.

Bonnie had dropped her stuff off later that evening, frowning at Caroline's explanation. Things at the boarding house, Bonnie had told her, were dangling by a thread. She was almost sure that her friend had thrown a wistful look at the house behind her, jealous that Caroline was able to escape Alaric and the Salvatores. She didn't bother offering a room to Bonnie at this point. They needed a sane connection and between Klaus' skulking and the Salvatore's incessant need to be right, both women knew that it wasn't worth it.

And that was it. Klaus had been radio silent, holed up somewhere in the house, while Bonnie settled things on the other side of town. Leaving Caroline with no one to talk to and the dreadful feeling that she was just another unimportant player in a new game on the same playing field.

"Caroline," she hears Klaus from some other part of the house, "if you sigh one more time I'm going to lose my already weak grasp on sanity."

"Well it's not like I have anything else to do," she mutters. Klaus heaves a long suffering sigh of his own, the drama queen, and she hears a quiet knock on the door.

"You can come in," she props herself up on the bed to watch as he leans against the door frame. It was dark out by now, he hadn't bothered to turn on the hall light and she had yet to turn on a lamp in the bedroom she was staying in, but he watches her in the dark for a moment.

"You look tired," it quietly rolls out, she hadn't meant to say it exactly. He closes his eyes for a minute before approaching so he can perch on the edge of the bed. "Klaus," she hesitates, shifting so he can sit, "what happened when you left? What…" she stops herself. _What broke you?_

Even Stefan hadn't looked so weary when they'd finally pried him from the safe, even Damon hadn't looked so drained when Elena had been placed in the family grave. Klaus, for all of his bravado and all of his spirit, even after a millennia of running...he'd never looked so lifeless.

"My redemption," he snorts half-heartedly, guessing her second unsaid question, "lies of course, but not without consequences." He doesn't look at her in the dark, doesn't turn from where he's hunched at her side.

"That's right, I'd heard about…" she can't bring herself to say Haley's name, not with how much bitterness colors his words.

"Just a tangle of magic and deceit."

"You wanted it to be true?" She finds herself asking. She couldn't imagine him with a child, not without blood dripping from his fingertips. But with the moments of gentleness he spared for her, Caroline could see where it might affect him more than he left on.

"Of course not, I'm...well," he doesn't bother going any further down that line of conversation, she knew what he was. "It was everyone else, the constant smothering need they all had that after a thousand years I was someone else underneath it all. That this facade," he spits, "was hiding a gentle man and the monster I'd become was just an ancient nightmare. That news of a child, of my own child, would break the curse of the man locked in the beast's body."

She isn't sure what to say to that, doesn't think she could have an answer for his problems after a hundred years. She settles instead for a hand on his shoulder, her thumb moving gently over his shoulder. She doesn't flinch when he presses his face to her hand, his lips brushing the backs of her fingers, doesn't move it when he blinks for long moments in the dark.

"Death has arrived," he mutters quietly. His comment startles her before she realizes what he means. He stands, moving back to the door, but waits for her to join him.

"Klaus," he turns back toward her, eyes lingering on her face, while she pushes herself off the bed. Coming to stand in front of him, she ducks her head, trying to untangle her thoughts, "I'd like...it'd be nice if you didn't kill so many people, but I don't think I'd know what to do if you weren't you." God, she sounds really stupid, but he presses a momentary kiss to her cheek and links their arms together, leading them out of the darkened room.

There's a light on in the sitting room, a dark head tucked away in the chair in the corner. When Klaus steps into the room, he drops Caroline's arm in the doorway, moving instead to pour himself a drink. She pauses there and the head makes no inclination that they had even heard Klaus and Caroline come into the room.

"It's just you then?" Klaus asks from the other side of the room.

"For now. You know how Lorin is, perpetually late. Lilith is dealing with a few loose ends but should be here by morning," whoever Death is, it's a woman. Caroline hadn't expected that or the accent. It was some dialect of British, a little more coarse and lilting than Klaus or Enzo's. Maybe Irish?

"And Miguel?"

"Still running whatever errand you sent him on last month I suppose," Death turns her head toward Klaus, giving Caroline a view of her profile, "I really wouldn't know." Klaus watches the woman for a moment, apparently assessing her words.

"Carolina, this is Moira," at Klaus' introduction, Moira turns to fully face Caroline. Given Klaus' general crew of pretty people, Moira was nondescript in almost every way. Nothing really stood out about her, from the singular tone of her brown hair to her plain black boots. She wasn't even wearing makeup. _Average_ , Caroline realized, was the point. Pretty enough to be a pleasant face to look at, but also forgettable. The perfect sort of person to blend into a crowd.

"Pleasure," Moira nods before redirecting her attention back to Klaus. "You will need to call your family and Miguel needs to come out of the shadows if we're to collect the objects." Klaus grumbles at that but excuses himself to make sure the deeds are done.

"So," Caroline starts, moving to sit on the couch, "you two work together often?" It's an awkward question and her tone is a little stilted, but for the love of god, this woman has known Klaus for over 500 years.

"You could say that," Moira hums. "Given your relationship I doubt I'd be well out of my position to tell you that I am, for all intents and purposes, Klaus' spymaster."

"When you say spymaster," Caroline leads. She can't quite get a read on Moira, but she suspects it's more because the woman doesn't want to give anything away.

"I was the confirmation of the Petrova doppelgänger. Both actually," Moira frowns, considering the thought. "You don't remember me though, do you? I was on the JV cheer squad when you were a junior."

"Wait, really? I would have…" Caroline blanches, realizing that she hadn't actually remembered and her Southern manners rankle at the thought. "That's how Klaus knew?"

"The fact that you don't remember means I was doing my job," Moira's upper lip curls back into what could be considered a smile, "I like to think I'm part of the reason he has the reputation he does, being his eyes and ears and all."

"You're basically the head henchwoman of the world's most prolific psycho killer and you wear that badge with pride?" Moira's lips curl back down into a neutral position, she was insulted by the insinuation.

"Actually, the title of world's most prolific psycho killer belongs to the thing your friends raised," her words have a bite to them but before Caroline can even fathom a thought to defend herself with, Moira stands to greet Klaus.

"That bad then?" He questions.

"There's been a surge in Expression all over the world, I'm told it comes more easily now," Moira pauses to examine her fingers carefully. "We've been putting it down as fast as we can, but there are too many of them and too few of us."

Klaus turns toward Caroline, a heavy look in his eye, "do you understand now? The choices made by two men that should have been dealt with long ago have led to consequences for everyone. For witches, werewolves, and vampires, but also for the humans that have died in the crossfire. This is what their actions and your lack of action have resulted in."

Caroline is rarely stunned speechless, though Klaus had pushed her there a few times, but this is too much. He was right, she knew. Their lack of control even within their own group had led to more problems than solutions, but when other people died because two idiots decided that the lives of their lovers were worth more.

"We couldn't have known this would happen," Moira argues quietly, surprising Caroline. She hadn't expected the woman to come to her defense, especially given the venom in her previous words. "We couldn't have known that the spell had survived."

"Then that is your mistake," he whirls on Moira, "you were sent to eradicate this and yet it still lingers. And it's my mistake for not ripping out Damon's heart years ago."

"And Alaric's," Caroline whispers from her spot near the door.

"How many times does that man have to die before it sticks?"

"He's the…" she has more to say, but her phone buzzes, Bonnie's name popping up on the screen. "Hello? Bonnie?" Klaus doesn't bother to listen, brushing past her on his way out, and motioning for the two women to follow, "slow down, I... we'll be right there." Sliding into the passenger seat of the car he'd pulled around front, Caroline only tells him what he already knows before they're speeding off into the night.

* * *

They're too late by the time they arrive, the front door hangs off its hinges, but she can already feel the lingering static electricity of magic. It isn't the overwhelming sense that every hair is standing on end, not like the first time Silas had appeared. But there is no sound in the boarding house.

Approaching slowly, she lets Klaus take the lead while Moira eyes the street behind her. Even going in with two powerful creatures, there's still an overwhelming sense of dread, a voice in her head that shouts, that screams for her to turn around. It takes everything she has to ignore that voice when she notices Bonnie crumpled on the ground.

"This one's dead," Moira kicks the body lightly with her foot, staring at the head that had rolled a foot away. "The head was torn off, it looks as if much of his throat was eaten," she's standing in a pool of blood, cooling rapidly by now, but it puddles around her boots. There's no point in trying to keep clean, not with the blood sprayed on the wall, the ceiling.

"Alaric," Caroline tells her from across the room. She's trying to keep her own head, trying not to vomit at Alaric's decapitated one while she clutches Bonnie tightly to her chest. Somewhere in her head, it occurs to her that Moira already knows who Alaric is, or rather was. Once again though, he's just another body in a pile of rubble. Moira frowns at the body but moves on.

"Stefan is alive," Klaus confirms, "broken neck." There's no concern in his voice, none of the thoughtfulness that once colored his tone for Stefan. He looks to her now, eyes turned down to study the body in her arms. His eyes are still cold, still assessing the situation. He prowls toward her, edgy and anxious, as though Silas is waiting just past one of the ripped curtains.

"Her heart is still beating," she tells him, looking up at him with wide eyes. He nods decisively and she wads her sweater up to prop under Bonnie's head. Caroline hesitates, wondering if Bonnie needs blood to heal, but Klaus pulls her arm away, shaking his head.

Instead she stands to survey the damage. Chairs are ripped open, a fire poker stands twisted and bent in the wall, and wood splinters litter the floor. It's not the worst mess they've cleaned up, in regards to property destruction, but she's hoping to not be the one to mop up Alaric's brain from underneath the dining room table. The smell though, that is inescapable and it's all she can do not to gag.

Her head snaps up when she hears shifting feet and a low chuckle. She turns her eyes to Bonnie one more time, making sure her friend is still breathing before she flashes up behind Klaus.

"Damon," Caroline whispers, stepping up to where Klaus has his hand blocking her from stepping any closer. Moira stands on his other side, watching the scene unfold with bated breath. Damon laughs again, at least she thinks so. It's more of a high pitched wheezing sound and he turns his wild eyes toward her. Cocking his head, his lips curl back unnaturally over his teeth, as though his mouth is suddenly too large for his face.

He opens his mouth wider, as if to say something, but it's a high pitched barking laugh. His eyes are no longer their normal shade, but a pallid blue grey. His limbs all dangle awkwardly, twitching like a body near death after an adrenaline surge. She doesn't want to think about why that analogy flashes through her mind, too horrified by what once was a man standing in front of her.

He moves, almost as if to take a step forward, but Klaus is faster and soon Damon is in a heap on the floor with a broken neck. She doesn't want to know if he'll wake up. Pushing his upper body flat on the ground, Klaus is quick to reach a hand into Damon's chest cavity, a small mercy to pull his life from him in a short snap.

"No!" Caroline barely has time to turn before Stefan is hurling himself toward Klaus and Damon, only Moira's quick reflexes stop him from hurtling over the two. "No, Klaus, you can't...you, Caroline," his desperate gaze turns toward her, "please, just. Please. I need time, we need time, I can fix this, just, please."

"Stefan," she tries to put her hands on his shoulders but he shrugs them off as best he can from Moira's bear grip. "Stef, he's not right, we need," she doesn't bother saying anything more over his pleas, only turns toward Klaus.

"Klaus," she whispers. His jaw sets before he turns toward her, not bothering to hide the disgust contorting his face.

"How many more, sweetheart? How many more do you plan to send to their graves for them?" He removes his hand from Damon's chest cavity, shoving the body toward Stefan. There is nothing warm, nothing comforting in his gaze. Stefan scrambles toward the body of what was once his brother, Caroline doubts there's any coming back from what Damon had become though.

"Lock him up. Now," Moira commands Stefan, snarling at him when he hesitates. "Silas is probably still in his head, he'll know we've been called." Stefan gives Caroline another long look, a silent thanks before fleeing with his brother to the basement. She can't help but feel as though she's made a very grave mistake.

"How many people have died so far, Moira?" Klaus asks, not taking those cold eyes off Caroline. He stands, not moving from where he'd been crouched.

"Excuse me?" His spymaster doesn't look as she approaches, keeping her own eyes on the floor.

"How many have fallen from Expression in the past week?"

"They leveled a city," she tells him quietly. He repeats his question again, still not satisfied with her answer. "Tens of thousands, at least," Moira admits, "if not hundreds." Klaus doesn't move when Caroline's face crumples, doesn't flinch when her stomach heaves.

"Are all of those people worth Damon Salvatore and Elena Gilbert?" No, she knows. No, they aren't. He can already read her response though, clear as day on her face. He says nothing to either of them and is out of the house with a growl.

Klaus doesn't return that night.


End file.
